Chapter Eleven
I was a total masochist. There, I’d said it. I’ve heard that admitting your problem was the first step to recovery. There was no doubt I got off on pain, because over the last couple of classes I couldn’t take my mind of Cooper, and I was actually worried about him.
Ever since he’d barked at Travis, he hadn’t brought his class back to Jitters. The only time I saw him was in class. And he looked so different from the stunning, well-dressed professor I’d first run into. His scruff was unkempt and thick, hiding his beautiful chiseled jaw. His clothes were wrinkled, as if he didn’t care. His hair looked like he didn’t even bother to put a comb through it. Though that just-rolled-out-of-bed look made him look even sexier. But what worried me the most was the haunted look in his
